


Aegis

by Ahon



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Blind Dirk, F/F, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 05:04:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6181378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahon/pseuds/Ahon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk's blindness has always made him more tolerant in a world of both humans and monsters. But when he encounters one of the most feared creatures in the world, he just might find that his tolerance goes farther than he thought...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nymphs and Fauns

Your name is Dirk Strider and you really wish you didn’t leave near a forest.

As it was, you do, and because of that, you dealt with the nymphs. Everyday. Well, every morning, but still, it was so tedious it felt like it lasted all day. Apparently, they took you as handsome, and spent most of their time trying to get you to do something you found out long ago you prefer to do with a member of the same sex.

“Ooooooh Dirkyyyyy~” one of them sang, tugging at your sleeve.

You made a mistake in telling them your name. But you were naïve when you first moved in here, thinking they were just trying to be friendly.

You smacked the nymphs hand away with your cane.

“Nope, not happening.” You say coolly.

It didn’t help that you were blind as fuck and therefore couldn’t see where they were.

Usually, you didn’t think of your blindness as a bad thing. It had been a part of your life for so long that you’d gotten used to it. But in regard to the nymphs…

It was annoying as fuck.

You manage to peel yourself from about four more of them, making it to the sidewalk that led down to the market. It had taken a while, but eventually you had this whole town pretty much mapped out in your head. It drove your brother crazy whenever he found out you’d left the house without calling a cab or something, but you enjoy the walk.

You tap your cane lightly in front of you. Even though you know the area by heart, you still don’t want to trip over a stray cat. It happened once. It wasn’t pleasant. Especially since said cat could talk, and used very colorful language to describe everything you did wrong.

You sigh. The human population in this town was scarce, and the blind human population consisted of you. So you were the center of some wonderment, both from monsters and your own kind alike. That wonderment faded after a couple of weeks, so now people can curse at you without feeling too bad.

You make it to the market, signaled by the sound of the bell ringing every time the door opened. You reach a hand out, memory serving you as you found the handle and stepped inside. A rush of cool air met you, contrasting the hot dry summer climate you had come from. It felt wonderful.

“Hey, _dick_ Strider, last time I checked you shouldn’t be wandering around like a lost fucking puppy.” Said a familiar, grumpy voice.

Karkat Vantas, longtime friend of your bro and the one person who had cursed at you since the beginning. Since you’ve been coming to the grocery store you had gotten to know him better than when he occasionally came over to hang with Dave. He was a fawn, although he was the opposite of the stereotype, less flute-and-dance and more shout-and-tirade.

“Last time I checked you should be smoking pot in the forest and playing your little flute.” You respond with a smirk.

“That’s racist as fuck Strider, and you know it!” he shouted back, and you hear his manager shout _“Language!”_ from across the store. Another few moments pass, in which you hear the clopping sound of hooves coming closer, and then a huff as Karkat stood in front of you.

“What do you need, asswipe?” he says.

When you had moved, Dave made Karkat promise to help you out with whatever you needed to live. This included food, which was actually the one thing you still needed his help with.

“I’m out of Doritos and milk.” You say, fishing in your pocket before you pulled out the small printed piece of paper that held those two items and a couple more. Karkat had also helped set up your voice-to-text system when you first moved in. You had to tweak it a couple of times to get it to where you could use it daily, as Karkat claimed to be better with computers than he actually was.

“Ugh, how you stand that human cheese-shit scratching down your throat I will never know” Karkat replies, and you grab his shoulder as he leads you through the grocery store.

“Should I eat deep-fried grass covered in vinegar instead?” you shoot back.

“Those things are the shit back the fuck off!” Karkat retorted.

This banter continues as you gather the items on your list, Karkat commenting about every food item you choose and you firing back with how his diet consisted of tin cans and weeds. In between, you caught up, Karkat talking about how Sollux was teaching him to code, but that “two-headed telekinetic fuck” wasn’t having much progress, and you talking about how Dave was thinking about visiting next month.

After you had both talked about everything and gathered up your supplies, you shot him an “Adieu, goaty!” as you departed from the store, hearing his angry shouting even through the glass.

You carried your groceries in one hand, the other tapping your cane in front of you. The temperature had gone down a degree, so you knew the sun was starting to set. Walking home at night wasn’t a foreign concept to you, but you tended to sweep the area in front of you more as the sun went down, not wanting to accidentally walk through the ghost of some angry old man or something.

You notice something is wrong when the nymphs don’t try and grope you after ten minutes. Usually they at least snag your shirt with branches at night, but it had been way past the time you should be near the forest and there hadn’t been a sound.

You stop moving, stretching your arm to the side, swinging your cane. When it didn’t hit a tree, you began to worry. Had you taken a wrong turn…?

You’re startled when a strong force tugs on your cane, pulling you from the sidewalk and onto what felt like stone.

“You made a missstake coming here, mate…” a silky voice cooed.


	2. Gorgons and Conversation

Your name is Dirk Strider and you try not to seem too rattled, but when someone suddenly pulls you nearly off the ground and then proceeds to make thinly-veiled threats at you in a weird voice, you can’t help but feel a bit panicked.

You feel a rough (scaled?) hand rip your overly-pointed shades from your face, and you give a shout of protest before two hands are on either side of your head, holding you there. You wait for something to happen. You forgot to breathe, so you exhale then. Another moment passes. Nothing is happening.

And from the awkwardly shifting grip on your head, you guess whoever is doing this is just as confused as you are.

You wait until their hands shift again, and then you swing your cane in front of you.

“Ow!” says the voice again, and you feel their hands pull back, while you keep swinging.

“Ow! Hey! Look here, you pillock! OW!” they yelp as you continue whacking. You think you feel your cane hit a tree trunk, but that doesn’t make sense, so you keep swinging.

Eventually you feel a hand grab your cane and pull it from your grip, not an easy feat since it’s roped to your wrist. The act makes you hiss in pain as the fabric is torn down your hand.

Before you can react, you’re being hoisted in the air by your shirt.

“Alright listen here jerkwad, why isn’t this working on you!? By golly, you shouldn’t even be _breathing_ at this point!”

“Gee thanks, and I thought we were starting to get along.” You sneer. Sarcasm has always been a sort of defense-mechanism for you, though you’d never admit it. Same with Dave. Must be a Strider thing. But right now, any defense-mechanism would be great, because your actual one was just torn from your hand.

“It’s not like I can very well help it! How are you not stone-dead by now!? Are you immune to magic?” he demanded, in an accent you couldn’t pin down, with a voice that was almost slippery.

You recall when your friend Roxy turned you orange. Or at least she said she did. Being blind didn’t help on April Fool’s Day. Especially not against the likes of mischievous pixies.

“Not that I recall. You know there’s a pill now that helps when people just aren’t feeling it, maybe you should try that.” You say, hands still gripping at the ones tangled in your shirt, legs kicking nothing.

You hear the person (although between the voice and the strength and whatever thing he’s saying should’ve killed you, you’re starting to think of that “person” as more of a _“thing”_ ) snort, and you think you hear it laugh.

Good. Laughter. Not murderous intent.

“Hey, so, could you put me down, or…?” you try.

The hands tighten in your shirt as the thing growls. “Why should I? So you can go back and tell everyone where I am?” it spits.

Literally, spits. It’s gross.

“Dude, I don’t even know where I am.” You respond, and you feel its grip go slack slightly. A few moments later you’re being set down, and you feel your cane being placed back in your hand.

“Is that…? Are you…?” it says, sounding confused.

“Lost? Yeah. Also blind as fuck, didn’t I mention?” you respond, sliding your cane back in your grip. The fabric fastener is broken. Great.

The thing is silent a moment.

Then it bursts out laughing.

It’s weird but, you feel yourself smile too. Probably because you’re nervous as hell about what just happened.

After whatever it is finished, you hear a sound like a log being dragged across the ground, and a hand is gripping your wrist as you’re being tugged along.

“Woah hey there, give the blind guy a head’s up where you’re taking him” you say, more out of nerves than actual concern. This is it. This is how you die. Eaten by some unknown monster out in the middle of nowhere.

You’d never heard of a monster ever eating anyone before, but still, Hannibal Lecter isn’t any less a cannibal if you don’t know who he is.

You feel the ground shift from grass to sidewalk, and the hand releases your wrist.

“Scamper off now, mate. Before I change my mind.” It still sounds like it wants to laugh. Weird.

“Hey, no, wait, you can’t just say I should be dead then drop me off and say goodbye. Morning-after rules, dude. At least cook me breakfast.” You almost shout. You don’t know if it’s walking (skulking, more like.) away or not.

You hear the thing snigger again. Then a moment of silence. You think it’s gone, and you begin to wonder how it left without that loud grinding sound you heard before, and then you hear it sigh.

“Listen, sorry about all that. Didn’t realize you were blind and all. Just trying to keep people from knowing where I am. Trust me, you don’t want to know who I am or where you are.” It says, quietly, almost sad. For a moment, you begin to feel sorry for it. Then you remember that it did sort of try to kill you.

“Yeah, that’s all find and dandy, but I have no idea where I am, so unless you want me to continue wandering around where you live, I think you could at least walk me home. Make up for that whole ‘I’m going to kill you!’ mess.”

“I don’t know where you live” it tries.

“I’m blind, not forgetful. I know my address. Google it.”

You hear another sigh, and then some ruffling.

“What’s the address, then?” it concedes.

After a moment of fiddling with the map, you were now tapping your way down the street next to the loud rumbling of whoever it was that tried to kill you. It was really cold now, so you assume its dark out.

“So, do you make it a habit to converse with ruffians that try to kill you?” it says after a moment.

“Not usually, no, but since you failed miserably, I thought I’d take pity” you say with a smirk. It snorts.

“Usually it works”

“Again, there is that pill…” you begin.

It laughs. Then you laugh. You laugh with your almost-murderer. It’s weird, but also hilarious.

“So, should I just call you ‘failed assassin’ or do you have a name?” you ask, the sound of grasshoppers starting to fill the air. Definitely nighttime, then.

The thing hesitates.

“…Jake. My name is Jake English. You?”

“Dirk Strider, nice to almost be your victim.” You say with another smirk. He giggles again. For a homicidal maniac, he is very quick to laugh.

You walk for a few more moments in silence. You think you hear Jake shift closer to you, but you can’t be sure. That weird log-sound is like a constant thing now.

“So, can I ask _why_ you thought gripping my face would kill me?” you inquire, cautiously. Somehow you know the answer won’t be great, but your curiosity gets the better of you.

Again, another hesitation from Jake.

“I… turn people to stone when I look at them.” He says, slowly, almost scared.

That rings a bell. You think back to your cultural studies class, not too long ago in school. You paid more attention in mechanics, but you remember something about turning people to stone…

Gorgon.

Jake English is a gorgon.

“Yeah… yeah I am.” He says, and you realize you said that last part out loud.

“Oh.” You respond.

“Oh?” he says, sounding confused.

“Well, I’m blind, so that just kind of means you’re a big snake guy to me.” You defend.

There’s a long pause. The next time Jake speaks, his voice is brighter. Happier.

“Yeah, that’s right! Egad!” he exclaims.

“Woah there cheerleader, calm down. Don’t want to wake the whole neighborhood.” If they’re even _in_ a neighborhood. You still aren’t sure.

“How do you know its nighttime…?” Jake says, sounding slightly suspicious. A gorgon and a blind guy. The irony is palpable.

“It’s cold. I can still feel. Four other senses.” You snort, slightly indignant. People thinking you being blind meant you were helpless didn’t bother you much anymore, but occasionally, you get a little fed up.

“Oh. Right. Say, are you like some sort of Daredevil?” he asks, sounding like it was a literal question.

“You caught me. I’m actually out here fighting crime.” You say, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

A moment passes and you think he might have actual thought you were serious, but then he burst out into laughter again. His laughter was odd, but not unpleasant. It sounded like little whistles of air, like hissing. Yes, that was a snake pun.

Jake tugs at your arm to get you to turn, and then stops you after another moment or two.

“Navigator says this is the spot, mate. Try to stick to the path next time, for both our sakes.” He says, and you can practically _hear_ his smile.

“Nah, if getting lost leads me to meeting interesting people, then I’m going to do it every day.” You say with a smirk. You hear Jake giggle again.

“Well, next time I’ll come to you, how’s about that?” he says after a moment.

“Are you asking to hang out?”

“I-if that’s all fine and dandy with you, that is.” He quickly adds.

“Inviting a murderous gorgon into my house to hang out like two best bro’s…? Sure, why not. I’m game.” You say. You aren’t sure why. Jake seems like a reasonable guy when he isn’t trying to kill you, but he did try and kill you. But you’ve let worse people into your house. Never throw a party when you’re blind. It leads to bad things. Drug-and-alcohol fueled bad things.

“Capital! I’ll see you around, Strider!” and then you hear that dragging sound (you realize now that’s the sound of his tail slithering. It’s more fascinating than gross) grow more and more distant.

You tap your cane around, eventually making your way to your door. You left it unlocked thinking you were only going to be out for an hour or two. You push it open after finding the handle, stepping inside.

It’s only after you’ve made your way to the bedroom that you realized you had dropped all your groceries when Jake had pulled you aside and then forgot your glasses after he yanked them off.

Capital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohmygosh, thank you for all the comments already! I'll try and update as often as I can, but I am in the government mandated institution known as school, so things might pop up. Thank you for all the lovely support so soon! See ya next chapter!


	3. Books and Arguments

Your name is Dirk Strider and it’s been a week since you met Jake.

You knew that coming over wasn’t going to be an easy thing to do. He is a gorgon. He can’t go walking down the street in broad daylight, turning people to stone left and right. But still, a week was pretty long.

Right now, you are currently sitting on your couch, reading a book that Karkat had translated into Braille for you. It was a romance novel, but that was to be expected. You could tell Karkat had taken some liberties with the plot, judging by the random outbursts of cursing sprinkled here and there. But that made it interesting.

Speaking of Karkat, he was currently sitting next to you, watching television. You didn’t have a T.V originally, seeing as all you could do was listen, but Karkat had brought one in for when he checks in every now and then. Usually, his check-ins were requested by your bro, although he’d never admit it.

“Tell me again _how_ you managed to eat through an entire list of groceries in a week, Strider? Honestly, I had to scrounge up a bag of that triangle-cheese shit out of the warehouse for your sorry ass.” Karkat complained, and you hear the crinkling of a bag as he took out what you assumed was another vinegar-grass chip.

“I didn’t. I dropped them on the way home, got a little lost.” You respond, closing your book. It was on a particularly lengthy sex-scene, and you weren’t feeling it at the moment.

“I thought you had this whole neighborhood mapped out in your head?” Karkat said through a mouthful of chips. Graceful.

“I still get lost sometimes. But I also ran into someone interesting, and that sort of made me drop the groceries.” You say cautiously, hoping Karkat wouldn’t ask about it.

“‘Interesting’? How does that having anything to do with you dumping groceries like you don’t care about how hard I bust my ass to get them for you?” Karkat continued, and you sigh.

“I met a guy…” you start, and Karkat groans. You never should have told him how gay you are. It’s led to nothing but torment. Light-hearted torment, but still.

“No, not like that, asshole, listen. I met a… gorgon…”

It takes about five seconds for Karkat to absolutely lose his shit.

“A fucking _gorgon_!?!” he shouts “You met a gorgon and you didn’t think to fucking call me, or Dave!?!”

“Listen, holy fuck, I’m fine! I didn’t want to worry you two-“

“Well too late for that, Strider! Holy shit, a _gorgon_ , what the fuck did he do to you!?”

“Nothing!! The whole stone-thing didn’t work because I’m blind! Calm the fuck down!”

Karkat did not calm the fuck down.

“What do you mean it didn’t work!? You mean he _tried_ to turn you to stone!? Jesus skull-fucking Christ, Strider, what took you so long to say something!?”

“Well even though he tried we talked after and he-“

“Woah, hold the fuck up, you mean to tell me you _talked_ to the guy that tried to murder you?? Lalonde wouldn’t even do that, and she talks to everyone!!”

“Would you shut up and listen!? It’s fine, he’s cool, we’re cool, and I even invited him over so everything is fine, fucking Christ!” you say with finality.

There’s a moment of silence, except for the sound of Karkat’s angry fuming. It sounds like a bull snorting in some cartoon, only softer.

“Well when he comes over I’ll be here to tell him to fuck off.” Karkat seethes.

“No, you will most certainly not, that’s the opposite of a good idea.” You say, slightly panicked. Even though Karkat says a lot of things when he’s angry, when he makes a statement like that he usually follows through.

“You can’t let a fucking gorgon in here! What if he turns one of us to stone!?”

“Then Roxy can thaw you out, no big deal.”

“No, _very big deal_ , gorgon magic is nearly impossible to reverse, and Roxy isn’t good enough with all that fairy shit to do that, you assbiscuit.”

You don’t say anything. Because no matter how much you hate it, he’s right. Gorgon magic _is_ super hard to reverse. That’s the first question that everyone asks when they learn about them. Roxy just isn’t old enough yet to take on that sort of challenge.

“Then don’t come over when he’s around, simple.” You say.

“Or you could just, oh I don’t know, _not let a murderous monster into the place you sleep_.” Karkat snaps sarcastically.

“He isn’t murderous! We had a nice conversation, sounds like he doesn’t even want to do that shit! So piss off! I’ll let who I want into my own goddamn house!” you bite back, standing up, your book falling off your lap and to the floor. You begin to feel your way down the hall.

“Strider, where are you-“

“Karkat, just, go. Tell Dave if you want, but I’m still not letting you two tell me what to do like I’m a five-year-old. I can take care of myself just fine.”

You hear Karkat start to protest, but by then you’re in your room, grasping the door and slamming it shut. You were getting tired of all this coddling shit. If you want to let a potentially dangerous person into your home, then it’s your fucking right to. Fuck Karkat.

You hear your front door open and slam shut, and you exhale, not realizing you had been holding your breath.

Despite your protests, you knew that Karkat was a bit right. Only a bit. It was dangerous letting a gorgon in your house. But Jake didn’t seem the kind to go about turning people to stone on a dime. Granted, he _did_ try that with you, but somehow… you don’t know how to explain it.

You groan. You’re tired as shit now. You know it’s only midday, since that’s always when Karkat comes over, but you climb into your bed, pulling off your newly-bought shades and feeling around to set them on a clear space on top of your cluttered desk.

You knew that if Jake came over you’d still have to be careful.

But that doesn’t mean you have to be an ass about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, got some drama up in 'ere! Anyways, I already have some ideas for the next chapters, so expect updates fairly soon. Thanks again for all the lovely comments, they honestly make my day. See ya soon!


	4. Orange Soda and Laughter

Your name is Jake English and you’re nervous as all hell.

It had been about a week and a half since you met one Dirk Strider, a man who was immune to your powers due to his blindness. Initially, the thought of talking to someone without running the risk of accidentally petrifying them made you ecstatic, as before your socialization was limited to other gorgons. Emphasis on the “limited”.

Now, your nerves had frazzled you enough that you had avoided a second encounter for far too long.

Your not-quite-so-proper first meeting wasn’t helping. You had tried to kill him.

Well, not _kill_ him per say, just… oh who are you kidding, you tried to kill him.

You didn’t want anybody finding out where you lived. If that happened... the past would repeat itself and you’d be force to run again.

That was the last thing you wanted.

But now, with the possibility of new friendship, you were fired up and ready to meet Dirk. Today was the day.

Its night, and you’re currently staring at his door, hesitating.

Confound your nerves! Why can’t you just do it!?

You reached out slowly and knocked very softly. When you didn’t hear anything, you sucked in a breath and knocked slightly louder.

You hear something moving behind the door, and then it’s open just slightly.

“Hello?” Dirk says from behind the almost-closed door.

“Uh… hiya! It’s, uh… Jake…”

There’s a second of silence before the door is opened completely wide, and Dirk is finally revealed to you, standing with his hands in his pockets.

“Sup, been a while. You didn’t write, you didn’t call, I was starting to worry…” he said with a smirk, and you grinned.

“Sorry, I would’ve come earlier, but you seem to have a problem with certain provocative nymphs…” you half-lied. You had tried to make your way to his house a couple days before, but you spotted a couple of the scantly-clad tree spirits giggling amongst the forest, so you withdrew. You probably could have made it past them, but your nerves got the better of you.

“Ah, yeah, sorry about that, they can get a little… forceful sometimes.” Dirk says, expression turning sour, as if remembering something unpleasant.

“No bother, just had to slip by them… May I come in…?” you say, glancing around nervously. You had already been out and about too long.

“Oh, sure, come on in…” Dirk said, slipping a hand out of his pocket to touch the wall as he moved inside. “Close the door, will ya?”

You slither (yes, slither, you tried to avoid using that word but it best describes how you move.) inside and close the door, looking around.

You were currently in the living room, a very sparsely furnished one at that. There was a couch against the wall, a table in front of that, and a TV on the wall opposite to the couch. To the left of the couch was a hall that led down to a closed door, and to the right of the TV was a tile-floor kitchen.

You begin to ponder why a blind man would need a TV.

“The TV is for my friends when they come over.”

You look back at him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you psychic as well, Strider?”

“Nope, just the first question everybody asks when they first come in. I’m a normal, magic-less human. One-hundred percent.”

“So you get a lot of new visitors then?”

“Only when they tried to kill me.”

You laugh, slightly embarrassed. “Yeah, look, sorry about that, uh, I was just…”

“No explanation needed dude, I’m sure you had your reasons, seeing as you aren’t trying again.” Dirk says with another smirk.

You giggle slightly at that. It seems Dirk was going to be one to make you laugh easily.

You watch as Dirk feels his way to the couch, beckoning to the spot next to him.

“You can sit if you like… wait, _can_ you sit?” he asks, genuinely confused by the sound of it.

You scoff, moving next to Dirk and sliding yourself down, tail curled on the floor in front of you.

“Just because I don’t have legs doesn’t mean I’m incapable of sitting.” You say

“Well paint me surprised and embarrassed then.” He says, grinning.

You smile, reaching out to the remote that was set on the table.

“Mind if I watch something…?”

“No, go for it, want something to drink? My options mainly consist of orange soda, though…”

“That’s fine, I’m not that thirsty.”

“Not a fan of orange?”

“Not a fan of soda. Gives me heartburn.”

“Dude, that sucks, soda is amazing.”

“Not really, it’s mostly sugar.”

“And I thought this was the start of a beautiful friendship, now you’re going to have to get out of my house and reevaluate yourself. Come back with some Alka-Seltzer and we’ll talk”

He grins, and you laugh. He starts to laugh too, and even though it wasn’t all that funny, you’re both pretty much wrecked in a couple of seconds.

After the laughter dies out and settles into a rather awkward silence, you flip on the television, surfing through some shows until you land on Avatar. Perfect, best movie ever, ten out of ten in your opinion.

You and Dirk sit in the quiet for a while, and you begin to get involved in the movie when he pipes up.

“Oh, hey, nearly forgot, do you mind if I feel your face?”

“Pardon?” you ask, caught off guard.

“I don’t know what you look like unless I actually touch your face.” He says, expression a bit embarrassed.

“Oh, uh, sure, have at it…” you say, facing Dirk. He raises his hands, and after a second or two of confusion you guide them to your face, and his fingers brush along your jaw.

They moved across your cheeks, and up to your eyebrows. His pinky brushes your bottom lip, and you blush slightly. No one has touched your face like this since you were a kid, and it has never been done by someone you just met a week or so ago.

Or anyone that attractive.

But you didn’t think that.

Nope, right now you’re thinking _Holy cow holy cow stop blushing confound it_ as his fingers trail down your nose. He stops, and you’re confused for only a moment before he pinches it.

“You fell for my trap, English” he says, grinning as you snort and pull back, rubbing at your nose. But you’re laughing too. You think his face is a bit red, but you probably imagined it.

“Not fair, you lulled me into a false sense of security!” you say between laughs.

“First rule, trust no one.” Dirk replies before laughing as well.

This continues on for the better part of the evening, you and Dirk going back and forth with some topic or another, eventually ending in both of you laughing like lunatics. After a while, you look at the time.

“Gadzooks, it’s late! I better be off.” You say, pushing yourself upwards. Dirk rose as well, feelings his way to the door as you followed.

He opens it, standing aside to let you pass.

“Well, it’s been fun English, don’t wait so long to visit next time, yeah?” he says, smiling. You smile too, before realizing you should probably say something.

“Yeah, I will. Thanks for inviting me, it was quite an enjoyable evening.”

“Same here… see you soon?”

“See you soon.”

With that, you slither away, hearing the door close behind you.

It’s only after you make it back to your hidden home that you realize that was probably the most you’ve laughed in a long, long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a delay with this chapter, sorry. Spring break is coming up for me which means all my teachers are loading me down with work! Ahahahaaaaaaaa *dies*. Anyways, I will probably two or three chapters over the break, so stay tuned! Thanks always for the comments, they're what keep reminding me to update!


	5. Phone Calls and Idle Thoughts

Your name is Dirk Strider and your brother is being a drama queen.

It had been an hour and a half and he was still chewing you out, albeit very calmly, over the phone.

“After I bust my ass to make you comfortable, you decide to just let a murderous monster in your home? Little bro, come on, I taught you better than that.” Dave said, for about the hundredth time.

“I keep telling you, he wasn’t murderous or a monster! Guy just wants some company!” You retort, annoyed.

“Well, why can’t he find that company somewhere else?”

“Maybe because he turns everyone else to stone?”

“And knowing that you _still_ let him into your home?”

“I let you into my home, and you’re just as cold-blooded.”

“Ouch, bro, seriously, that hurt me right in the feels.” Your brother responded sarcastically, making you smirk.

“Well then this will hurt more, I told him he could come back.”

“No, Dirk.”

“It’s my home.”

“That I pay for, so technically, it’s _my_ home.”

“Well, you don’t live here, so you forfeit your rights to tell me who to let in the door.” You bite back, a little angry now.

“Listen Dirk, I know you-“

There was some talking in the background, and you hear Dave say ‘yeah okay’ and ‘give me a sec’ before his voice is back.

“We’ll talk about this later, but bottom line is this: no gorgons in the house, big bro is laying down the law here.”

“Fine.”

There’s some hesitation.

“Call if you need anything.” He says after a moment, and then the line goes dead.

You raise the phone in your hand, about to let your anger get the best of you and chuck it across the room before you realize that probably won’t do anything but cost money. You sigh, dropping the phone in your lap, putting your face in your hands.

You’ll be damned if you let your brother run your life any more than he already does. Up until now, you’ve allowed him to be protective, since you knew deep down below that apathetic exterior it made him feel better. But you’re living alone now, and god dammit you’ll let a gorgon into your house if you feel like it.

You breathe for a bit, calming yourself down, before you make your way to the kitchen, feeling around for anything edible. You lost track of time talking to your brother, but you decide it’s time for lunch. You grab a bag of what can only be Doritos, a can of soda, and a box of what you find out is Cheez-Its.

You realize you have quite a lot of food with cheese in it.

You find your way back to the couch, eating in silence. Not the grandest of lunches, but it’s your usual. If it weren’t for the die-hard Strider metabolism you’d be a blimp by now, instead of the rather lanky stick you are.

As you eat, you think about everything that’s happened. Karkat and Dave getting on your case about Jake. Jake actually coming over. You spend most of the time thinking about the latter.

The memory of feeling his face pops into your head. It was a weird texture, but that’s just what scales feel like, you guess. He had a defined jaw, and for a cold-blooded reptile, his face was quite warm.

You stop after you realize you’ve been thinking about his face for a rather awkward amount of time.

You don’t really have a ‘type’. You can’t really be attracted to someone based on looks, since feeling faces only gives you what their most prominent features are like. But then you think about when your pinky grazed his lips, and how you heard him suck in a breath, and holy fucking shit are you seriously falling for this guy!?

You stop thinking about it.

You fail, and keep thinking about it.

Sure, you had realized a long time ago that your ‘type’ at least consisted of members of the same sex. So it’s no shock that you like a guy. But a guy you literally just met, now that’s a little bit unusual. Also, a guy that tried to murder you, that’s just unsettling. You remind yourself that he seemed nice after that, but still. Unsettling.

You groan, letting your head fall back on the couch. Okay, so you maybe might like a slightly-murderous gorgon guy you only met a couple weeks ago.

Dave will just _love_ that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm so sorry for the delay. Yes, spring break has started, and yes, I know this chapter is short even thought I promised two, but I think the length of those two is going to combine to form the length of one of my usual chapters. Sorry! Break got a lot busier than I thought it would be, and there's so much stuff I need to work on. I'll keep updating, I swear! I will never stop saying thanks for all the lovely comments, so thanks! 'Till next time!


	6. Homecomings and Bitterness

Your name is Jake English and you’re feeling a lot of things right now.

Mostly fear.

But also excitement. Even though it had been a few days, it hadn’t worn off. You’ve never had anyone you could talk to outside of your family before, and now you have Dirk Strider.

Well, “family” is stretching it.

Gorgons have clans. When there’s a whole world of people that think you go around turning people to stone willy-nilly, you tend to group up. Your clan just happens to consist of your grandma, so you call it family.

It also happens to have a clan leader, Caliborn.

But he makes everyone call him Lord English, as a way to mock you.

A while ago, you “mouthed” off to him after he tried to get everyone in the clan gallivant about town turning everyone to stone as a way to get territory. Although you speaking up stopped it from happening, Caliborn has taken up that title ever since as a way to “remind you who’s in charge around here”.

Right now, Caliborn is the source of your fear.

You’d been away from the clan too long, and you knew it. You left to be alone, and that’s when you met Dirk, and that’s where you’ve been hanging around for the past couple of weeks now. Caliborn probably thinks you tried to abandon the clan. He wouldn’t be happy.

Caliborn was one of the youngest amongst the group, but he had risen to power after he killed the last clan leader. That was two years ago. Now everyone was afraid of him, and he only kept that fear because he would kill another gorgon once a year. A way of reminding the clan that he hadn’t lost his touch.

It was awful, and you wished you could leave. But your grandma was there, and you couldn’t just abandon her there with that psycopath.

You slink inside the old, worn-down warehouse that served as your den. A couple of the older gorgons greet you, having known you and your grandma for a long time. You make your way through the haphazard tents set up within, always semi-constructed in case you had to migrate suddenly. It happened often.

You make your way to your tent, marked by the scrap of green cloth tied around the front of it. You and your grandma both shared a love of green, amongst other things.

“Hey, Granny, I’m home.” You say as you duck inside.

Grandma Harley turns her head, smiling as she continues to stir a pot full of a stew of some kind. Probably rabbit, they were the biggest game around the warehouse.

“Hey there Jakey the Snakey! Just in time for dinner…” she says, and you smile. That had been her nickname for you since you were little.

“How’s the clan?” you ask, as always. Although you’d never say it, you’re always looking for a way to get you and your grandma away from Caliborn and the clan. But until then, you ask about what happens when you’re gone, which is often.

“Good, good. Cali had another tantrum today over food, but he didn’t kill anyone, so that’s a plus.”

“Well that’s just friggin’ aces.” You say bitterly. Caliborn’s tantrums had been getting more and more frequent. It didn’t bode well.

“Now now, Jakey, don’t let him catch you slinging that sarcasm.”

“But you just called him ‘Cali’, and he hates that.”

“Did I? My memory must be fading, confound this old age!” she says with a devilish grin.

You snort, and then a loud crash sounds from outside. You spin around, looking outside. You see a situation, and quickly tell your grandma to stay put (“I’ll go where I please, I’m not that old!”) before leaving the tent and moving to the center of the warehouse.

The center was cleared out for what Caliborn called “fun and games”. Namely, beating up the other gorgons when it fancied him. There were dried bloodstains scattered about the floor of the clearing.

“You absolute idiot! What did I tell you last time?” Caliborn spat at a young gorgon, who was visibly trembling as she held on to the tail of a dead rabbit.

“I-I couldn’t find any m-more…” she said, eyes darting about.

“Now, did I say that I cared? I told you to bring back _three_ rabbits next time you go out, or else you wouldn’t eat!” Caliborn said, snatching the rabbit from the girl. You clench your fist.

“Females!” Caliborn spat before turning. On top of everything else, he was a misogynist. It’s like winning the asshole lottery.

He caught site of you, and tossed the rabbit aside. As he moves towards you, you manage to stand your ground, looking at him right in the eye. Gorgon magic didn’t work on other gorgons. Unfortunately.

He’s a couple inches shorter than you, but you don’t let that lower your guard.

“Hello, _English_ , how pleasant of you to crawl your way back into _my_ clan. But what makes you think I accept you back?”

You don’t say anything, and the two of you stare down a moment before you back down and look away. You don’t want to get into a fight, not after all the excitement of the past couple of weeks.

“That’s better, English. Remember your place. What’s my name?” he says, mockingly.

“Lord English.” You say, trying your best to mask the resentment in your voice. You hate this so much.

You can practically _hear_ his smirk, and he pats your head patronizingly as he slivers away. You go to the young girl he was berating earlier.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask gently. She’s crying.

“I-I couldn’t find any, I… I’m so hungry…” she said, hopelessly.

You pat her shoulder assuredly, then take her arm and bring her to your tent.

“Granny, got enough for three?” you ask as you poke your head inside.

Your grandma turns to see you bringing the girl inside. She smiles warmly.

“I heard from here. Have a seat, we have plenty.”

The girl smiles appreciatively, and your grandma pours three bowls. You eat quietly, both you and your grandma cracking jokes to try and cheer the girl up. It works, and she even gets in a few. Then she leaves, saying she has to go back to her family.

When she’s gone, you and your grandma get ready for bed, setting up your sleeping bags on opposite ends of the tent.

“Nice girl.” Your grandma starts, and you groan.

“What? You didn’t think she was nice?”

“No” you respond. “But that’s what you always say before you say ‘you should ask her out sometime!’”

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask someone out.”

“Goodnight, Granny.”

“Goodnight, Snakey.” She coos, laughing as you throw a pillow at her.

You slip into your bag, tail curled inside. Your grandma is asleep almost immediately. Maybe she is getting old.

You stay up thinking of Dirk. About how you laughed and hung out and how you didn’t kill him with a glance.

For some reason, your grandma’s earlier statement lingers in your head while you think of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, there ya have it! The two chapters I promised, one day late! *insert laughing/crying me here*. To answer a question I saw, I am indeed in the US. Spring break just ended, which means work will pick back up, so I'll try and update when I can. The Jakey the Snakey idea was from you guys, honestly I couldn't pass it up. Thank you for the amazing support and comments, I love you all! See ya!


	7. Sarcasm and Joking

Your name is Dirk Strider and you’re really, really pissed off.

It had been a while since you’d seen Jake, and in that time, your overprotective brother decided to visit you.

And stay in town for a while.

To “make sure my lil’ bro is alright”.

You knew exactly why he was staying. After you told him where to stuff his opinions about gorgons in your house, he took it upon himself to watch you like a hawk and make sure that you didn’t let a “magic stone-eyed weirdo” anywhere near you.

Currently, he was sitting next to you on the couch, watching Star Wars, by the sound of it. Your brother would never admit it, but he’s a huge fucking nerd.

“So, how’s it been?” Dave asks.

“Fine.” You say, keeping your responses short to try and avoid an argument.

“Karkat giving you trouble?”

“No more than usual.”

“Need anything?”

“No.”

A moment of silence, then Dave sighs.

“Listen, Dirk, I know that you-“

“Is now the part where you say you understand? Because I may be blind and not deaf but I can still ignore you pretty well.”

“Dirk, you’re being a brat.”

“I am? Wow, sorry bro, better work on that.” You say, sarcasm showing in every word.

“I know I gave you it, but don’t throw your sarcasm at me.”

“I could throw some other things instead.”

“Dirk, I just…”

“If you say ‘want what’s best for you’ I’ll hit you with my cane.”

“Actually, I was going to say that I just want to talk.”

“Well shit Sherlock, that’s what we’re doing right now!” you say, feigning surprise.

“ _Dirk”_ Your bro says, and you hear the underlying anger in his voice. As you grew older, you found it easier to push his buttons. Repeated sarcasm is one of those buttons. Ironic considering that he uses it more often than you.

“I don’t want to talk. You can stay as long as you want, but I’m going to let Jake back in here whenever _I_ want, so if you want to accidentally get turned to stone, be my guest.” You say, with an air of finality.

Dave doesn’t take the hint.

“Jake, huh?” he says

Your cheeks redden at Dave’s tone. You don’t have to see to know his eyebrows are raised. Despite your best efforts, he can still read you like a book.

“Yeah, Jake.” You respond.

“I see.” He says.

“I can’t.”

There’s a brief silence, and then your bro busts up laughing. You join in too, after your best attempt not to. Blind jokes have always been a thing between you two. A way to lighten the mood after a tense moment or whenever you had an off day.

After a long moment of hysterical laughter, you both compose yourselves. Dave puts his hand on your shoulder.

“Listen… you’re right, bro. I can’t keep you from doing what you want. But just… be careful, alright? I don’t want to have to superglue pieces of your stone face back together.” He says, and even with the joke, there’s worry in his voice. You smile.

“I will. If anything happens, I can just hit him with good ol’ caney.” You say, lifting your cane for emphasis. He chuckles at that.

“How many people have you actually hit with that thing?”

“Counting multiple hits for the same person? Because Karkat gets snippy very often.”

“Don’t I know it.” Dave says, and then you hear his phone chime.

You hear him dig it out and tap on the screen a few times. Probably John. Every so often your bro’s boyfriend would check in and make sure everything was going okay. You hear Dave put the phone back in his pocket.

“John?” you ask.

“No, Karkat. Having another argument with Sollux, needed to rant.” He responds, sounding tired. Dave was always the mediator between Sollux and Karkat in their “strictly fucking platonic” relationship.

“What, did Sollux not fill his sexual tension quota for the week?”

“I wish. Karkat ended up blue-screening his new laptop when he tried to code something by himself. Now Sollux wants him to pay for a new one, and Karkat is saying he doesn’t have the cash.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, it’s one of their bad arguments. Hopefully if we wait long enough they’ll fuck and make up.”

“You really think that will happen?”

“The fucking or the making-up?”

“Second one.” You say, as if it should be obvious.

“Usually works out that way. And I’m tired of hearing Karkat scream for tonight, so waiting it out is what I’m going for.” He says, sighing. You hear the sleepiness in his voice.

“Dude, go pass out in your hotel, get out.”

“I’m not tired.”

“Really? I can feel you falling asleep man.”

“How can you _feel_ me falling asleep.” He says, with a yawn he tries to cover up.

“Well, mostly smell. Every time you yawn your breath nearly chokes me.”

“Oh shut the fuck up.” Your bro says, shoving you. You poke him with your cane.

“Seriously, go get some sleep. If this Karkat thing is as bad as you say, you’ll need the energy.”

You hear another sigh from your brother, but then he’s getting up from the couch.

“Fine. If he stops by looking for me tell him I’m on the road back home, or hiking, anything but my hotel.”

“He already knows where you’re staying.”

“Goddammit.”

You stand up next to your bro, following him out, hand lightly gripping the back of his shirt. He opens the door, and you place your hand on it as he steps outside.

“See ya later, lil’ bro. Tell me if you need anything.”

“Yeah. See ya.” You say, and wait until you hear the sound of footsteps walking down your driveway before you close the door.

You smile. Well, that went well. Better than expected.

Maybe now Jake can visit you sometime other than the dead of night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Homework-crazed teachers. Thus the delay. There's exams coming up for the end of the year and I'm spending most if not all of my usual free-time working on them. I'll try and post more chapters soon, but if I ever have any time to write I'm usually exhausted by that point. Thanks so much for your comments and patience. See ya soon!
> 
> (Also yes I too am a huge Star Wars nerd. Ask anyone.)


	8. Coffee and Unpleasant Surprises

Your name is Jake English and you finally managed to sneak away from the clan.

Caliborn has been keeping a close eye on you ever since your original escapades, making sure that your every move was monitored by either him or his loyalists. It had taken about a week before he let up, and you finally managed to slip away while everyone was asleep.

It was midnight, the sound of crickets in the air. You tried as best you could to keep quiet, but it was very hard with your tail. You manage to make it to Dirk’s door without much incident.

You knock once. There’s no response, and the lights are out. You wonder if maybe midnight was too late, debating whether to knock again or leave when the door opened a crack.

“It’s late, who is it. Dave?” Dirk said, sleepily, and it felt great to hear his voice again.

“Uh, nope, sorry chap, just me. I can come by later if this is-“

“Jake? No come in, come in.” Dirk said, perking up. You smile.

You slide into the house, closing the door behind you and turning to Dirk, but he wasn’t there. The sound of coffee brewing tells you he’s in the kitchen, and you move there.

“Not that I don’t love visits while I’m asleep, but why so late?” Dirk asks, his voice still a bit sleepy.

“Sorry, I had some… difficulties in finding time to come over…”

Dirk scoffed, and you could tell he didn’t believe you. You’d never told anyone outside the clan about, well, the clan. But you don’t talk to many people outside the clan, so that may be why. You debate this in your head before sighing.

“Confound it, my family has been on my back since I came here, and I just now managed to get away.” You mumble.

“Family on your back, huh? Relatable.” Dirk said, and a soft ding signaled the coffee was done, and Dirk grabbed his mug from the Keurig, bringing it slowly to his mouth and blowing.

“Not particularly excited you let a murderous gorgon into your house?” you guessed.

“No, not particularly, but they can eat a bag of dicks.” Dirk responded, but without any bitterness in his voice. He sipped his coffee slowly.

“That sounds gross, Strider.”

“But nutritious, probably.”

“Gross!” you exclaim, laughing. He stops sipping long enough to laugh with you.

An awkward silence fills the air, as it sometimes does after a bought of laughter.

“I might not be able to come as often.” You say.

“This counts as often?” Dirk responds, smirking.

“Oh, you know what I mean. If I keep sneaking out eventually the clan will notice.”

“Clan, huh? Sounds ominous.”

“Not really, just a group of gorgons hiding from everyone that wants to tie us up and throw us in some dark corner of blazes-knows-where.”

“I wouldn’t mind the tying up part.” Dirk says, and you’re pretty sure he only did because he hasn’t drank enough coffee yet.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, grinning despite your blush.

Another awkward silence, this time filled with the sounds of Dirk sipping his coffee.

“I can’t stay long, I have to get back before morning.”

“Oh, yeah…” Dirk says, and you swear you hear disappointment in his voice. “Well, if you ever want to stop by in the dead of night again, feel free, sleep is for the weak.”

You chuckle, sliding up to Dirk and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks, mate… for letting a blood-thirsty gorgon into your house despite your family.”

“I seem to have a kink for befriending my potential murderers.”

“Really?”

“No, just trying to make you feel better, is it working?”

“Not really.”

“Dammit.”

You both laugh, and Dirk finishes his coffee. You talk for a while, but when an hour and a half pass, you say your goodbyes. The clan rises early to look for food. Wouldn’t want to be missed.

“Hey, Jake…” Dirk says before you make it down his porch steps. You turn, waiting, then realize your mistake, and say “Yeah…?”

“You’re not blood-thirsty… or murderous… fuck what my family thinks, you’re a…decent guy…” Dirk says, shuffling awkwardly.

You smile, then grin.

“Thanks, Strider… you’re probably the nicest person I’ve ever tried to kill…”

You see Dirk smile before the door closes, and warmth fills your chest as you make your way, quietly, back to your clan.

You get within sight of the warehouse when you realize something is wrong. Two of Caliborn’s loyal bodyguards are standing out front, and one of them nods when they see you. Before you realize what’s happening, you’re hit from behind, a blunt object slamming into your back, causing you to lurch forward, where a fist meets your jaw. You reel, bringing up your arms and swinging, managing to hit something before you’re slammed to the ground, another pair of hands holding down your tail.

You hear laughter, and look up to see Caliborn, holding his gold cane, no doubt what you were struck with. Around you were his loyalists, the Felt, holding you down, nails digging into your wrists and tail.

“Hello, English, I hope my surprise was to your liking.”

You grit your teeth but say nothing. Your jaw aches, and you wonder if it’s broken. Caliborn grins viciously, sharp teeth glinting in the dull moonlight.

“Nothing to say? I would say I’m disappointed, but your voice annoys me.” Caliborn snarled, swinging his cane across your cheek. You taste blood.

“Next time you leave the clan by yourself, I won’t be the generous leader I’m being now…” Caliborn said, leaning down until you could feel his breath.

He held the cane long ways, forcing it into your mouth. You wanted to spit it out, but he pressed down, causing your jaw to scream in pain. He nods to the Felt, and then it began. One raked their nails up your arm, causing you to thrash against his grip, your only sight Caliborn’s gleeful face as you’re forced back down again. The other twists your arm, and the one holding your tail stands, foot stamped against your lower half as he kicked you in the abdomen, again and again.

By the time it was over, your whole body pulsed with pain, and you were crying despite your efforts not to. Caliborn had stood up first, removing his cane and tossing it aside, a look of disgust on his face. The last loyalist kicked you in the side one last time before they all departed back inside the warehouse, cackling.

You curled up into a ball, holding your gut as the full weight of the ordeal settled in on your bruised body. One arm stung from the cuts, the other ached from being bent the wrong way too long. Your abdomen was pulsing with pain, and you felt the strong urge to vomit. You could still taste blood in your mouth, and your lip stung. Probably split open from Caliborn’s cane.

You laid on the ground, trying your best to hold back the tears and ride the pain out.

You only got up when the sun began to rise over the horizon.


	9. Cuts and Nervousness

Your name is Dirk Strider and you’re wired as hell right now.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to drink coffee in the dead of night, but you thought Jake was going to be staying longer than he did. That was a while ago now, but you were still wide awake.

It wasn’t just the coffee that was keeping you up. It was Jake. He seemed nervous, and coming at night seemed to be his thing, but this late was a first. From his voice he sounded like he wanted to stay, but…

You shook you head, as if trying to shake away the thoughts. It worked somewhat, but that’s only because your brain was really fired up right now. While you loved coffee and drank it often enough, it still managed to get you hyper as fuck for the first couple of hours after you had some. Wonderful stuff.

You’re about to give up and just lie in your bed when you hear a weak knock at the door. You grab your cane, making your way out of the kitchen. How many visitors were you going to get this late?

You open the door until you feel the chain pull at your grip. It seemed ridiculous to have a chain on the door, but your brother had insisted. You grip your cane a little tighter, in case those nymphs had become mobile or something.

“Hello? Jake?” you ask, hearing heavy breathing. You _really_ hope it isn’t those nymphs.

“H-hey Strider…” Jake’s voice answers, strained. Worry surges through you like a lightning bolt.

“Jake, what’s wrong, you sound-“

“Can I come in…?” he asks, and you hear the underlying plead. You quickly feel up the door and unclasp the chain, pulling the door fully open. You hear Jake slither in, and close the door once you feel him enter. You turn, hand reaching out for Jake. He sounded like he was speaking through a broken mic.

“Jake, what’s going on?” you ask, not even trying to hide the concern in your voice.

“I had…a little scuffle… nothing to get in a tizzy about…” Jake wheezed, and you closed in on his voice, hand brushing his shoulder. You felt him tense up as you moved your hand up his neck and to his cheek. Jake hissed, pulling away. You pulled your hand back, feeling something wet between your fingers.

“Jake, are you bleeding?” you demand, already beginning to move to your bathroom. Jake didn’t answer, but you didn’t care. You felt out for the medicine cabinet above the toilet, retrieving the first aid kit and making you way back to the living room. You found your way to the couch, patting the open spot next to you insistently. You heard Jake’s tail slide against the floor, and then the weight next to you as he sat down.

You handed him the first aid kit, worry etched into your expression. You heard him open it.

“Jake, what happened? People don’t just get fucked up for no reason…” you ask, almost pleadingly.

Jake was silent a moment, then he sighed. “My clan wasn’t very happy about me leaving to come see you.” He said.

“What, and they decided a friendly chat wasn’t enough?” you said, harsh sarcasm laced in your words.

“My clan leader…doesn’t do friendly chats…” Jake replied with a tone that told you he didn’t want to talk about it. You sighed, slightly frustrated.

You’re both silent, and you smell rubbing alcohol before Jake hisses again.

“This blasted cut stings…!” He muttered exasperatedly.

“Here, put it in my hand and show me the cut…” you say, holding your palm out. You feel a wet piece of cotton enter your grasp, and then Jake takes your wrist and gently brings it to his face. You begin to dab the area gently. Jake curses under his breath.

“Did you at least give your ‘clan leader’ a matching cut?” you ask.

“I would’ve if he and his cronies hadn’t jumped me from behind.” Jake grumbled.

“What a bunch of dicks.” You responded. Another awkward silence.

Jake brought hand up to yours, and you tried your best not to jump. You felt his other hand slip the cotton from your grip, but he kept your fingers in his grip, gently rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. You felt heat rising to your cheeks, but did your best to keep your expression neutral. You cleared your throat.

“If you’re getting beat up for coming here, maybe you should...” You started.

“No, to hell with Caliborn…” Jake said quietly. His fingers began to lace with yours, and now you were _really_ struggling to keep your voice calm.

“I don’t want you getting cut up just to come s-see me…” you said, voice cracking. You mentally smacked yourself. With a chair. You began to worry your lip, your calm façade crumbling.

“You’re the only person I _can_ see, mate…” Jake spoke softly, and you were doing your best not to turn into a nervous mess. Play it cool, Strider, for fuck’s sake.

There was a moment of silence, of Jake gently holding your hand, your fingers intertwined as you tried your best to keep your composure. You’re so focused on this very, _very_ difficult task that you jump when you feel a hand brush your cheek. Jake starts to pull his hand away from yours.

“S-sorry I…” Jake begins, nervousness creeping into your voice. It’s strangely reassuring, knowing you’re not the only one struggling to keep cool here.

“No it’s fine, wait.” You interrupt, holding his hand against yours. He stops pulling back, and you worry your lip again. You imitate what Jake did earlier, running your thumb over his knuckles. “Sorry, I’m just…wired from the coffee…” you lie.

An awkward moment passes, and you think you’re both wondering the same thing.

“Listen, if we’re going to make out you have to start because I can’t see your lips.” You say, your words confident but your voice nervous. There was a small pause, then Jake started to laugh.

“Thank you, Strider, for ruining a romantic moment!” he says, bursts of giggles between each word. You grin, blushing.

“Shut up, I didn’t want to try and end up head-butting you or something!” you defend, starting to laugh. It’s a while before you’ve both calmed back down. Your nerves start rising again, and then you feel Jake’s hand on your cheek again. Curse your pale skin, your face must be scarlet by now. You hear Jake’s breathing get closer, and your stomach starts to do flips. Jumping jacks. It was running a whole triathlon at this point.

His lips brush yours, and your heart joins in with your stomach, beating faster and faster. You feel the hesitation in the way Jake’s hand fidgets against yours, and you decide he’s close enough to risk it. You lean forward, pressing your lips fully together, and you thank your luck that your aim was dead on, otherwise this wouldn’t feel quite as amazing as it did.

Your hands gradually separate, Jake’s holding you by the waist while you wrap your arms around his neck. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, and Jake responds in kind. It’s a waltz, with none of you taking the lead, simply suggesting and taking suggestion. You part your lips from Jake just far enough to breathe in, then it’s right back to the dance.

It’s a long moment before you and Jake part for real, panting. You don’t know about Jake, but you can’t stop smiling.

“If getting beat up lets me kiss you, then sakes alive I’ll _ask_ Caliborn to hit me.” Jake says, still out of breath. You chuckle, then laugh. He laughs too. It breaks up the post-kiss tension like a hammer to glass.

You’re still giggling (yes, giggling, it’s pointless to deny it’s what you’re doing.) when Jake slides closer to you on the couch, lifting your arm around him as he lays against your chest. Your blush is back full force now, but you hold him, resting your head against the top of his.

You feel Jake doze off before you hear his light snores, and you smile.

You start to doze, coffee wearing off, and your last thought is how you should wake up in the dead of night more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yesssssssss finallllyyyyy! I loved every goddamn second writing this chapter, and I'm loving all the feedback from you all! I'm planning on making this a 20 chapter story, and I have all of them planned out so there shouldn't be any super long delays. Thank you all so so much for the kudos and comments. See ya around!


	10. New Friends and New Shades

Your name is Jake English and holy shit the last few days have been a ripsnorting good time.

You’ve been seeing Dirk as often as you could, wary of Caliborn. You usually sneak out close to midnight, when you think he sleeps. Maybe he doesn’t sleep. You’re pretty sure he just schemes. Either way, the risk is worth it. Absotively posilutely.

You see Dirk. You talk with him. You laugh with him. You kiss him. That last part is happening more often, much to your enjoyment. It seems once that barrier was broken there was no turning back, and you found your lips on his more frequently.

This was the first afternoon you’d managed to sneak away from Caliborn in a while, your grandmother promising to cover for you. She smirked when you asked, as if she knew what you were up to. But she couldn’t. Could she?

You shake your head clear of thoughts on your grandmother’s omnipotence, continuing to face the wall of Dirk’s room. Dirk had wanted to introduce you to his friends, but certain precautions had to be taken, so here you are, looking intently at the white plaster surface in front of you.

“No, Roxy, it’s more like this!” Said the voice you’d been told was Jane. Her tone was a bit exasperated, but you could hear the underlying tone of amusement. A small crackle sounds out not too long after her remark.

“But this is more fun!” Roxy’s voice responded, and a much louder crack bounced off the walls. You would jump, but this had been going on for about ten minutes now.

“Jesus fucking shit Roxy could you hold your fire!?” Dirk exclaimed. He was still jumping every time.

“Sorry Dirk-y!” Roxy said playfully, and you snorted. Even though the two girls had been there for an hour or so, that was the first time you’d heard Roxy say that. You hear Dirk huff with slight embarrassment.

“Shut up, Snakey…” He said, and you giggled. Roxy and Jane giggled too. Dirk huffed again.

“So, while we’re on Jake, how did you two meet?” Jane asked. She’d been trying to get details on the extent of you and Dirk’s relationship since she arrived.

“Oh, you know, gay orgy.” Dirk responded as he always did; with his usual sarcastic wit.

“Dirkkkkkkk, come ooooooon, tell us how you met the spooky snake man!” Roxy whined.

“That’s between me and my scaly boyfriend—” Dirk said, stopping himself too late. You couldn’t tell if the squeal that came next was from Roxy or Jane. Probably Roxy.

“Finally, the truth revealed!” Jane said triumphantly.

“A+, Di Stri! So, have you guys macked yet?” Roxy said playfully. Luckily you were facing the wall because your face turned red at that.

“Oh yeah, totally, but we haven’t even caught up to you guys yet, don’t worry.” Dirk responded, and you could hear the embarrassment in his voice now.

“Nah, you’ll never reach our quota, right Janey?” Roxy said, and you hear a few sputtered syllables from Jane.

“Ew, people, get a room, I can hear you guys you know!” Dirk protested as you too heard the sounds of what could only be described as pure mack.

“We are in a room, silly.” Roxy said, and Dirk scoffed.

“My room, and there will be no macking in my room.” He said.

“Hypocrite.” You say, a little louder than you meant to. Roxy and Jane bust up laughing, and after a second or two so does Dirk. You join in not too long after.

“Whose side are you on?” Dirk says, voice closer. You feel his reaching hand touch your back, and then his arms are around you, kissing the back of your neck. You flush.

“Ew, people, get a room, we can see you guys you know!” Roxy complained in a mocking-Dirk voice.

“My room, my boyfriend. Go kiss somewhere else.” Dirk said, amused. He was enjoying this. You, meanwhile, were a little too focused on his breath brushing against the skin of your neck.

Despite his words, Dirk slides away from you. You feel both relieved and sad.

“I wish Jake could actually look at us when we talked.” Jane said, voice thoughtful.

“Well you could both cover your eyes and hope for the best?” Dirk suggested sarcastically.

“No, I think I could… yes… Dirk, where are your old pair of glasses, the one’s like your brother’s?” Jane said after a moment, and from her voice you could tell she was formulating a plan.

“Should be on top of my dresser, why?” Dirk said, curiosity piqued.

“Roxy, help me out for a second, I’m not sure I have enough magic to try this.” Jane said, and you heard ruffling behind you. Jane was a witch, and Roxy was a fairy. When you thought about it, it was actually pretty fitting they were dating.

After a few more moments of rustling, a loud hum reverberates through the air, charging it with electricity. Your tail twitches in mild agitation. Magic always made your skin crawl. Ironic, considering technically you were magical.

After a brief couple of seconds, the charge in the air faded. You hear panting behind you, and then a pair of dark shades are being dangled in front of you by a hand with manicured pink nails.

“Here ya are, snake man, try these!” Roxy says, putting a voice to the hand.

You take the glasses, slipping them on. A little small, but not enough to be uncomfortable. You keep facing the wall, unsure of what to do.

“Well turn around! I didn’t tire myself out for nothing!” Jane said, and you hear the nervousness in their voice. Tension fills the air as you slowly turn, looking at the ground.

“I-I’m not so sure about this…” you say, voicing the concern that was forming a pit in your stomach.

“Just try it, if one of us turns to stone, it will at least be in the name of science! Er, magic!” Jane said, and you suck in a breath and look up, fear racing through your veins and making your heart pump.

Roxy gasps, and Jane flinches. For a moment, you’re suspended in your own fear. It drains quickly once you realize none of them turned to stone. You can’t help the grin on your face.

Roxy beams, and Jane pumps her fists in the air. Then they stand up together, dancing around.

“Best. Girlfriends. Ever!” they both chant in unison, and you feel elated. Dirk is smiling too, and you can’t help it. You slide up to him and kiss him, the suddenness making him jump slightly beneath you, but then he relaxes, hand sliding up to your cheek.

“Guys! You should be licking our boots, not each other!” Roxy says, and you pull away, blushing.

“Thank you so much, I don’t even know…” you trail off.

Jane waves her hand dismissively. “No big deal, I read somewhere that you can block gorgon magic by enchanting glass, so I thought I’d give it a whirl.” She’s still smiling as she says it, and Roxy hugs her.

The sun is setting by the time Roxy and Jane leave, and regretfully you have to leave Dirk as well. But not before you kissed once again.

“Can I keep the fancy shades?” you ask.

“Hell yeah man, they’re yours. I would say they make you look cool, but…” Dirk said with a smirk.

“Oh shut up, Strider.” You say, shoving him playfully. You’re met with another kiss, and then you’re slithering out of Dirk’s house and into the growing darkness.

You’ve never been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said "no more big delays"? Welp, I have no excuse, sorry, I've just been real tired coming home lately. But tomorrow I get home early, so I will try and post another chapter! Thanks again for all your comments, I read them and smile every time, so thank you thank you! See ya!


	11. DS and Sexiness

Your name is Dirk Strider and these past couple of weeks have been fucking amazing.

Now that Jake can be around everyone without the danger of turning them into statues, he’s met everyone. Karkat, Sollux, even your bro have all talked to him. Your bro pulled you aside and told you he was giving you a thumbs up. You had smiled at that.

Turns out you and Jake weren’t the only ones being gay as fuck. Sollux and Karkat told everyone they were officially dating one night at dinner, to absolutely no one’s shock. Karkat sputtered and raged through every “I knew it” that you and your friends shouted. He really got mad when your bro slipped you a twenty for the bet on how long it would take. You knew you would win.

Amidst all this time gone by, however, you began to realize that it was time to take this rather amazing relationship with Jake to… another level. It was a relatively painless realization to come to, this wasn’t your first rodeo after all. However, this _was_ your first rodeo where you could potentially be riding a half-snake man with very sharp teeth and claws. But that wasn’t even the biggest obstacle.

It was how to bring this up to Jake while still keeping your cool.

Granted, he had been chipping away at the rather pitiful chill façade you usually put up since you met, but you still tried to keep it up. Truth is, you really liked the guy, and didn’t want to fuck up by going too fast. So, in your nervousness, you waited another week, hoping that maybe one of your many make-out sessions would escalate and do your job for you. But, as your luck would have it, that never happened.

So now you’re sitting on your bed, Jake beside you, playing something nerdy on the DS he borrowed from Sollux. You were cuddled up rather comfortably, so you decided to ruin it by bringing this shit up.

“Hey Jake, can ya talk?” you ask, so far so good.

“Yeah, just let me save. Gosh darn gym leader took forever to beat.”

You waited until you heard the lid of the DS close, feeling Jake shift to lay his head against your shoulder.

“What’s up?” he asked, and you realize ‘can ya talk’ was about as chill as you were going to be in this conversation.

“Well, I, uh… wanted to ask if you maybe…shit… wanted to…do…a thing.”

“A thing…?” Jake said, confused. Shit, he’s too literal to pick up on subtext.

“Yes, a…thing…involving this bed…and…you…and me…”

“Strider, we’re doing a thing on your bed right now.”

“No, a different thing…” if you could beat yourself with your own foot you would. Gladly.

“Like…?”

“Like…like… oh goddammit English, do you want to have sex?” you say, fast enough that you don’t think about it.

There’s a moment of silence, in which you breathe in, hold it, and try to keep your heart from tearing through your chest and dancing a jig.

“O-oh…” he finally responds, and you can hear the nerves in his voice.

“Wait, shit, if you don’t want to that’s fine…” you begin.

“Yes.”

“Okay that’s fine I… wait, what?” you say, your train of thought derailing.

“Yes, Strider, I would.”

“Oh. G-great.” You say, a little dumbfounded. Granted, you hoped that would be his answer, but still.

Jake giggles slightly, and you start to chuckle, the tension easing a bit.

“Soooo…” you say.

“Yeahhhh…” he responds, and you snort.

“Now or later, English?” you say, trying to regain your cool here.

“O-oh, now is… good…” he says. Of course, you already knew that, making sure that no one was coming over before asking this.

“Okay, so… you have to sort of…guide me, if that’s alright…” you say, worrying your lip.

“More than alright…” Jake responds, and you blush slightly. You feel him shift, and then his hand is brushing your cheek. You smile slightly. He cups his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you forward into a kiss. You let him lead, and after a moment it gets heated, your tongues added into the mix, fighting for dominance. You let him win. You do. You totally didn’t give in, nope. Not you.

He pulls back, and you’re both panting. You feel his fingers tug at the bottom of your tank top, and you raise your arms, shivering as he slips the garment off. His lips meet your chest, and you gasp, then giggle despite yourself.

“What…?” he asks.

“Tickles…” you reply, and he chuckles. You smile, then give a gasp of surprise as you feel a light sucking on your nipple. You turn bright red, your pants feeling unfairly restricting all of a sudden.

“Does that tickle…?” Jake asks, voice low.

“Y-yes, but with some benefits too…” you say, biting your lip. He laughs, hands sliding down to your waist. You breathe in as your belt is undone and your pants unzipped, moaning softly as a hand slips inside, grasping at your member through your underwear. His lips continue their exploration of your chest, and you arch your back ever so slightly.

“H-hhh… Jake, while I love foreplay and all…” you whisper, rolling your hips once to emphasize your point. You’ve been a little pent up since you decided to wait, so while this was more than amazing, you were a little impatient.

Jake wasn’t having it. You could feel his lips curl into a grin against your skin.

“Am I making you bothered, Dirk…?” he asked, voice barely a whisper. His thumb began to rub circles against your head, and you gasp at the friction of the cloth that separated his digit from your now-aching member.

“A-ahh…f…fuck Jake, what do you think…?” you reply, panting slightly. Despite your efforts, it seems Jake English has taken command of this little event.

“I think… I’m going to draw this out…as long as I can…” he says, voice suddenly by your ear, making you shiver. You feel him shift, and then his chest is pressed against your back, lips on your neck as his hand began to pump you slowly. You moan, all essence of cool gone as you squirm beneath his grip. He holds you fast, free hand slipping down your pants to rub your thigh. You bite your lip to stop the rather embarrassing sounds you can’t stop making.

That doesn’t last long, however, as you feel Jake’s teeth nip at your neck, making you gasp. He sucks at the mark you undoubtedly have now, and you shiver. You wish you had asked about this sooner.

“J-Jake..ah..hhh…”

You feel something pull down your pants, and you realize its Jake’s tail. That shouldn’t be hot, but it is. He hooks a finger around the edge of your underwear, slowly sliding it down and exposing your erection. You sigh in relief, eyes sliding closed. You feel something too warm slide between Jake’s chest and your back, and you blush at the realization of what it has to be.

“G-getting excited there, English…?” you managed to pant out, and you realize he’s panting too.

“A-a little… want to help me out…?” he asks, and you hear the expectation in his voice. You’re putty in his hands.

You turn, lifting a hand. Jake guides it to the warm thing that was between you, and you’re grateful you can’t see because this would probably be very weird if you could. You stroke Jake’s member slowly, and he lets out a small moan. You smirk, then begin to pump it rather quickly, making Jake gasp and squirm. You stop suddenly when you hear Jake’s breath kick up a notch, and he whimpers. You revel in the control you have at the moment.

It’s short lived, however, as you feel yourself being lifted and placed against the headboard of your bed. Hands slip slowly down your chest until they’re resting on each of your thighs, and you have a split second of realization before Jake’s taking you in his mouth. You moan loudly, hands patting about until you find his hair, gripping tightly.

“J-Jake, I-I don’t know…h..hahh…how much more…hh!” you warn. You did say you were pent up.

If Jake heard you, he wasn’t responding. He began to bob up and down along your shaft, and you moan and gasp as your head goes a bit fuzzy. It’s about five minutes of nothing but pleasure and sound before you feel heat pool into your stomach.

“J-Jake, if..if you want to drag this out…hhah! I s-suggest you..s..stahhhhp!” you drawl, mouth hanging open as you pant shamelessly.

You regret what you said as you feel his mouth slide slowly off of your member. You bite back a pitiful whimper, mind clearing a bit. He slides you down the bed until you’re flat on your back, and you hear him moving about. You’re confused until the strong smell of Jake hits your nose, and you realize what over-cliché position you’re in. Not that it isn’t hot as fuck.

“Y-you alright…?” he asks, and you respond by moving your hand up to grip his member, lining it up with your mouth before sliding it in slowly. Jake moans, and you feel a swell of pride at getting him to make a noise like that.

It isn’t long before he’s bobbing along your shaft as well, and you start a rhythm. He would do something you like, and then you would. You would stop just to hear him whimper, then he would just to see you squirm.

You were already near the edge, so it doesn’t take long before you’re back on the precipice. You moan a warning, but turns out you weren’t going to be the first. Jake slid off of your shaft with a pop, moaning his release. Your mouth is suddenly filled with a sickly-sweet taste, and you manage to swallow it all. From the sounds Jake was making, you think that felt good. You shake your hips slightly to try and gain his attention.

There’s a moment where nothing happens, and you think Jake has pulled a real dick move (pun intended) and left you neglected. Then suddenly you’re in his mouth again, and you feel your head hit the back of his throat. He moans, and that’s it. You quickly remove Jake from your mouth as you moan loudly, fingers dropping to the sheets as you fought the urge to buck upwards. You rode out your release, and Jake managed to take most of it, but you felt a dribble slide down your shaft. Damn if that wasn’t satisfying, though.

Jake licks the remainder of your orgasm off, then flips to lay next to you on the bed. You take the little spoon as you both fight to catch your breath. After a moment, he’s the first to speak.

“That…was amazing…” he says, and you smile.

“Yeah…yeah it was…” you sigh, and you feel his nose nuzzle the back of your neck.

You barely manage to slip a sheet over the both of you before you doze off.

Maybe you shouldn’t have asked sooner. Maybe this was the perfect time.


	12. Breakfast and Unwelcome Visitors

Your name is Dirk Strider and you have no idea what the morning-after rules are.

It seems that you and Jake were both a little pent up, because when you woke up there was sand in your eyes and your senses were groggy. That only happened when you’ve slept through most of the day and the night. Meaning it was morning. Fuck.

You slide hesitantly from Jake’s grip, waiting to make sure he didn’t wake before feeling your way to the kitchen. You wish that Karkat would give you a shitty Braille-romance novel that explained what to do after a night of passionate sex, but they just cut to the next day. Assholes. You feel your way around your cabinets, managing to drop a bowl. The plastic clattered against the floor loudly, and you cursed.

“Dirk…? What are ya up to, mate?” Jake English slurs sleepily from behind you, making you jump.

“Well, I was trying to make breakfast, but that bowl went rogue on me…” you say, sliding your foot around until it touched the villainous dish, leaning over to pick it up. You feel Jake slide it from your hands.

“I’ll take care of it, no worries…” he says.                                                         

“But it’s my house and I was the one who suggested we…” you start.

“Yes, and I want to thank you for a rather spectacular day by making breakfast for you.” Jake says softly, and your face colors slightly. He kisses your cheek, and you can’t stop the stupid grin on your face as you make your way to the couch. Who needs a dining room?

It’s a couple minutes before you hear the sound of sizzling meat and the unmistakable smell of bacon fills the house. This man has your heart, hands down, no question. A couple more minutes pass and you hear eggs cracking. You didn’t even know you had eggs in the house.

The sounds of breakfast-making die down, and then you hear Jake slither into the living room, gently resting a plate on your lap. You hold out your palm when you hear the clink of silverware, and then you feel a weight next to you as Jake sits down.

“Okay, so, where’s the bacon on the plate?” you ask, free hand raised. Jake guides your fingers to the holy land, and you pick up a strip, eating gratefully. A little crispy, but you like it that way. If you weren’t eating right now you would mack on English so hard. No shame. Bacon is good shit.

It’s a couple of minutes of you asking where the food is on your plate and Jake guiding you to it as you eat, and then you sit and munch while Jake eats his own food. There’s a moment of content silence, and then Jake is lifting the plate off your lap, taking your silverware. He slides his arms around your waist, face nuzzling the crook of your neck. You sigh, lifting your arm and placing it around his shoulders. This was a good couple of days.

“Dirk, I need to leave for a while…” Jake says, voice hesitant. Your heart falls, but you try to be reasonable.

“Is it the breakfast thing, because I _can_ cook…” you say jokingly, although it doesn’t sound that way afterwards. Dammit.

“No, Strider, nothing like that… I’ve just been away from my family too long, and some of them…won’t like that…” he says, and you hear the worry in his voice.

“Jake, are you alright? Every time you mention your family I feel like you’re talking about the mob or something.”

“They’re not the _mob_ , Dirk, it’s just… complicated…” he says, and you decide not to push.

“Okay, okay…when can I expect you back…?” you ask, trying to get any details you can.

“I don’t know…I’m sorry…” he says. You’re silent a moment.

“Well…try not to be long, alright, English?” you say, concern leaking into your voice. You feel helpless. It’s not a fun feeling.

Jake kisses your cheek, and you turn and catch his lips. He cups your cheek with his hand, and you squeeze him slightly. A couple days of pure fucking awesome and now this. Just your luck.

You both sit there for a long moment, maybe even an hour, and then Jake is sliding from your grasp and pulling you up from the couch. You lead him to the door, and he kisses you once more before you hear the door open and close behind him. You bite your lip, and your fingers prickle with the feeling of those cuts and bruises he came to you with that night. Maybe you should call someone.

You turn to find a phone when there’s a harsh knock on the door. You dare to hope this is a scene from one of those shitty rom-coms where the lover comes running back to the other in a dramatic scene of cheesiness. You open the door, hand outstretched.

“Jake?” you ask, and then nails digs into your palm and yank you out of your house. Before you can shout or fight, your head is slammed against the floor and you see stars. You groan, and a foot is on the back of your neck.

“This is what that weakling defies me for? A human?” a harsh voice rasps, and then you’re being dragged down your driveway. Your head is still swimming, and you weakly manage to dig your nails into the pavement.

“If he thinks he’s better than me, then I’ll have to prove my superiority. I’ll use you, semi-attractive human boy.”

A sharp pain hits the side of your head, and then there’s nothing but black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such a block for this chapter. I knew what I wanted, but I didn't know how to get there until today. Thank you for putting up with my bullshit pause, and expect some more drama soon! This story is gettin gooooooood! See ya!


	13. Chapter 13

Hey everyone, sorry for the long wait for an update, but I just wanted to come here and say officially that I don't have any updates. I'm sorry to do this to anyone still reading my silly first shot at a long story, but I don't have any solid plan to end this fic, much less a plan I find satisfying and want to write. I wanted to come here and officially say there isn't anything coming in the future, rather than just leave this unfinished and run away. If anyone is still reading this and thinks they have an ending in mind, please go for it, write something better than I could lmao. If there's anything else anybody still here wants to talk about, my Tumblr is theopalestopal.tumblr.com. Thanks to everyone for the support, kudos, and comments, I loved them all and am so sorry I couldn't wrap this up for you guys. In the future I'm sticking to short stories and one-shots so that this doesn't happen again. Thanks you all!

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! That took a long while to write! I hope you enjoy, I know it isn't super long, but I'll try to lengthen my chapters as I go on. I just wanted to leave it at a cliffhanger, muahaha. Thanks for reading!


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